Death upon wooden mockery,
crimson Savior bathing in love.
Instilling hope and new tomorrows
in those who were given neither.
[I have decided to follow Jesus,
no turning back, no turning back]
Empires making statements
using a man with nail-scarred hands,
[Father will you come]
Raining of His Father's business
upon The Lion and The Lamb,
spilling innocent blood on
less than innocent hands.
Departing from inhumanity's playground,
rigor mortis lays quiet, as a rock
plays bodyguard.
Awaiting for the third day to arrive,
for wounds to heal and for the dead to rise.
[You can say I'm dead, but you're just missing
out on what it feels like to be alive]
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